N.C. District: No. 2
Worker: T. Pat Matthews
No. Words: 1258
Subject: R.S. TAYLOR
Story teller: R.S. Taylor
Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt
R.S. TAYLOR
710 South McDowell Street
"My name is Ransom Sidney Taylor. I was borned in slavery the 5th day
of January, 1857. Adam Taylor was my father and Mary Taylor my mother.
My brothers were: William H., Jesse, and Louis; sisters: Virginia,
Annie, and Isabella; all born in slavery. We all belonged to John Cane.
He owned a plantation on Ramkatte Road[5] near Yates Mill, between
Yates Mill and Penny's Mill. There was a whiskey still at Penny's Mill.
"There were sixty slaves in all, but Marster only kept seven on the
plantation with him at Yates Mill. Marster's sister Mary was our missus
after he died. He died before the surrender. The war was going on when
he died. He was a Northern man. His sister came down to the funeral
from New York and then went back, then she came back to settle up the
estate. She stayed here a long time then. She told all the slaves they
were free. That was about the close of the war.
"Marster John Cane was buried in the Catholic Graveyard in Raleigh. His
wife had died in the North, so my mother told me. We had plenty of
something to eat, beans, peas, butter milk and butter and molasses and
plenty o' flour.[6] We made the wheat on the plantation and other
things to eat. We didn't have clothes like they have now but we had
plenty o' good and warm wove clothes. Our shoes had wooden bottoms, but
were all right.
"We had prayer meetings on the plantation and at times we went to the
white folks' church. Marster was a Catholic, but we went to the
Methodist Church[7], Edenton Street Methodist Church. My marster would
not allow anyone to whip his Negroes. If they were to be whipped he did
it himself and the licks he gave them would not hurt a flea. He was
good to all of us and we all loved him.
"We called our parents pappy and mammy most o' the time. My marster
looked like you, jes' the same complection and about your size. He
weighed around 200 pounds had curly hair like yours and was almost
always smiling like you. My marster was an Irishman from the North.
Mother and father said he was one o' the best white men that ever
lived. I remember seein' him settin' on the porch in his large arm
chair. He called me 'Lonnie', a nickname. He called me a lot to brush
off his shoes. I loved him he was so good.
"Our overseer was named John H. Whitelaw. He got killed at the Rock
Quarry near the Federal Cemetery when they were carrying a boiler to
the Rock Quarry a long time after the surrender about 14 or 15 years
ago. He and John were standing on the side of the boiler and the boiler
turned over and killed both of 'em. Marster's overseer was bad to us
after marster died. Nothing we could do would suit him, and he whipped
the Negroes. We never heard the word Negroes until we moved to Raleigh
after the surrender. They called us niggers and colored folks.
"We were darin' to have a book to study. It was against the
Confederates' rules at dat time, but marster called us in to have
prayer meeting on Sunday mornings.
"I have seen patterollers. Dey had' em but not when my marster was
living. Dey didn't come around den, but when he died dey come around
every night; we never knowed when dey was comin', you know.
"I never saw a slave really whipped. Marster would switch a slave
sometime, but it was a matter o' nothing 'cause he didn't hurt much.
"We had good houses and plenty o' good places to sleep, and we fared
fine in slavery time. We called marster's house with its long porch the
'dwelling house'. When the Yankees came through they told us we were
free and we didn't have to work for the Johnnies no more.
"We got everything all right on the plantation near Yates Mill, then we
moved to Raleigh.
"My mammy belonged to old Captain Hunter before she was married to
pappy. When she got married the Taylors bought her, and she and pappy
stayed with the Taylors. As soon as we got the plantation fixed up, we
moved to Raleigh and mammy and pappy went back to her white folks, the
Hunters. My father was a carpenter by trade, and a preacher. He
preached at St. Paul's Church on the corner of Harrington and Edenton
Streets. We lived in Raleigh all our lives except Annie. She went to
Brooklyn, New York and died there about four years ago.
"I thinned corn, and turned potato vines, and helped look after and
feed the stock. Our marsters gave us some money, five and ten cents at
a time. That's the only way we got any money.
"We caught rabbits, hunting in the day time, and possums, hunting at
night. We hunted on holidays. We had holidays at lay-by time, and the
4th of July. When we caught up with the work we had nothing to do. We
got Christmas holidays.
"I never saw a slave sold and none never ran away. We went fishing in
Swift Creek. I never saw a jail for slaves and never saw any in chains.
We played push and spin on the plantation.
"My mother looked after most of us when we were sick. She used roots,
herbs, and grease, and medicine the overseer got in town. When my
mother got through rubbin' you, you would soon be well.
"When I first saw the Yankees I was afraid of 'em. It was a curiosity
to see 'em comin' through the fields with dem guns and things. They
come down and talked with us and told us we were free and then I was
not so scared of 'em.
"I married Francis [HW: corrected to Frances] Lipton in 1885. We were
married at the end of McDowell Street at Mr. Chester's home. Just a
quiet wedding with about 30 friends present. I didn't think a thing
about slavery while we fared mighty well; but it was bad on other
plantations.
"I don't know anything about Booker T. Washington, nor Jefferson Davis,
but I know Jim Young. He was a Negro politician. I do not know much
about Lincoln or Roosevelt.
"De[8] Yankees jes' shot hogs and cows and took everything on de
plantation dey wanted. I can see 'em now runnin' chickens. Dere was an
old rooster, he said, 'Cluck, cluck, cluck cluck,' as he run. Dey shot
his head off and he turned somersets awhile, and rolled over dead. Jes'
seemed lak if dem Yankees pointed a gun at a chicken or hog dey would
roll over dead. Dey had live geese tied on their hosses. One ole gander
would say, 'Quack, quack, quack,' as the hoss stepped along and jarred
him. Some o' de Yankee soldiers were carrying hams of hogs on deir
bayonets. Dat wus a time, Lawsy, Lawsy, a time. One ole hen, she had
sense. When de Yankees were killin' de res' o' de chickens she ran for
de piney woods and hid dere and stayed till de Yankees left Raleigh;
den she come home. Mammy caught her and raised about forty chickens off
her in Raleigh."